Alice typified—
✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻
✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻ ✻
“After all,” said Charley, “this is a pretty good old world to live in.” And he fillipped, gently, the rim of his goblet with his middle finger. (Ching! ching!) “It was B flat when it was full, and now (ching! ching!) it is a good C sharp. Listen!” And shutting one eye, he cocked the other meditatively towards the ceiling. (Ching! ching!) “Acoustics or something, I suppose. A pretty good old world, I tell you, boys. (Ching! ching!) H’m! h’m! h’m!” It was a low, contented chuckle. “Jack-Whack, you ought to have a sweet little darling of a wife, just like—”
“Mr. Frobisher, you are positively boozy!”
“Well, well, my precious little ducky dumpling, I don’t write Essays on Military Glory every day. H’m! h’m! h’m! h’m! I left out my very best illustration, simply because I couldn’t work it into my paradigm. It is a little poem I heard once,—h’m! h’m! h’m! h’m! (Ching! ching!)
‘Dad and Jamie had a fight,
They fit all day, and they fit all night;
And in the mornin’ Dad was seen
A-punchin’ Jamie on the Bowlin’ Green.’